


New Beginnings

by NamiiLevee



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Cooking, Dreams, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Genocide Frisk, Genocide Sans, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multiple Endings, No More Resets (Undertale), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pacifist Frisk, Past Child Abuse, Pedophilia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Repressed Memories, Sans Remembers Resets, Undertale Genocide Route
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12125232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamiiLevee/pseuds/NamiiLevee
Summary: Frisk wakes up from an unusual dream involving their unusual friends and decides to grab a late-night drink, and along the way has a misunderstanding with Sans.  This begins the journey down a twisted and unexpected path in uncovering the history of the human "angel"; and Sans learns that Frisk, the human child who freed all of monsterkind, has some deep, dark personal skeletons in their closet.  (No pun intended.)





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Apologies for the delay, I had a massive writer's block over the summer and only recently opened up my computer again. With some luck I'll be able to get back into the spirit of writing! And don't worry, this story isn't over yet.

“Ladies and gentlemen, monster boys and girls, we now present to you the AMAZING, GORGEOUS, and TALENTED METTATON!”

Cheers erupted as Mettaton rolled onto the set, blowing kisses to the audience and striking poses. As always, he was perfect and glamorous in his movements, never missing a beat. “Welcome darlings! It’s time to…STRIKE A POSE!”

The audience roared with approval as they followed suit, striking all sorts of poses as best they could. They took their seats shortly after, quieting down when Mettaton signaled them.

“It’s time for another episode of ‘Cooking with Mettaton,’ and what would it be without the beautiful yours truly?” The robot purred. “But alas, darlings, I’ve realized that it’s awful lonely being the only one up here. So, I’ve decided to bring in someone just as glamorous and fantastic to help me cook, and do they ever have the most remarkable pose!” He gestured to the floor, dramatically crying into the microphone, “Say hello to the FANTASTIC, MAJESTIC, and COOLEST monster to grace the Underground: PAPYRUS OF THE ROYAL GUARD!”

The spot in the floor rose up to reveal a hidden platform, and who else was posing with his own dramatic flair but Papyrus himself. He donned his usual “battle body” costume and his red scarf was as eye catching as ever, flapping in whatever synthetic breeze the stage crew had conjured. Mettaton loved flair and drama, after all.

“NYEH HEH HEH HEH! HELLO UNDERGROUND! IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, COME TO PASS ON MY GREAT COOKING SKILLS!” He cackled in his usual way, then turned to Mettaton. “THANK YOU FOR HAVING ME HERE, METTATON!”

“Of course, Papyrus darling! After all, you are very well known for your cooking. What would you like to make for our darling audience today?”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS REKNOWNED FOR HIS DELICIOUS AND NURTRITIOUS SPAGHETTI! WHY EVEN THE HUMAN FRISK LOVED IT SO MUCH THEY WANTED TO SHARE IT WITH ME.” The tall skeleton recollected.

He shook his head hard enough to rattle his bones. “BUT TODAY WE SHALL NOT BE MAKING SPAGHETTI. TODAY, I WOULD LIKE TO TRY COOKING SOMETHING NEW.”

Mettaton seemed intrigued as did the audience. “Something new you say? Whatever will it be?”

“NYEH HEH HEH! I WILL NOT GIVE AWAY THE SURPRISE, BUT I WILL SAY THAT IT IS DELICIOUS AND EVERYONE WILL LOVE IT, AND IF THEY DON’T THEY WILL HAVE TO ANSWER TO ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! BUT EVERYONE LOVES THE GREAT PAPYRUS’ COOKING SO THERE WON’T BE ANY DISLIKES HERE. NOW, ON TO COOKING!”

The crowd cheered as Papyrus stepped in front of the oven and adjusted his gloves and battle body. “FIRST WE MUST PRE-HEAT THE OVEN TO-- SANS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?!”

Papyrus reached into the oven and pulled out a short and stout figure wearing a blue parka with a fur-lined hood. The small skeleton, as it turned out to be, released a yawn that had the taller skeleton fuming.

“SANS, YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T SLEEP IN THE OVEN! WHY ARE YOU EVEN SLEEPING IN THIS OVEN?! WHO THOUGHT SLEEPING IN AN OVEN WAS A GOOD IDEA?! WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?!”

Sans continued to sleep, snoring softly, and that drew even more ire from Papyrus. He grabbed his older brother with both hands and proceeded to shake him.

“SANS! YOU LAZYBONES! CAN’T YOU SEE WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A SHOW?! WAKE UP! RELOCATE! DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN SLEEP!”

“…oink…” Sans mumbled as he continued to sleep. Papyrus was at a loss for words, more so when he finally noticed the fake pig snout. The audience was quiet. Mettaton didn’t say a word. Sans continued to snore softly and Papyrus was sweating metaphorical bullets, extremely embarrassed.

“…AHEM.” The tall skeleton coughed awkwardly. Slowly, carefully, he replaced his brother in the oven and gave his skull a few tender rubs. Then he closed the oven door as softly as possible. “WE HAVE ANOTHER OVEN. NOW ON TO THE COOKING!”

“But of course, darlings!” Mettaton finally spoke up, riling up the crowd once more, choosing to ignore what had just happened. “Please, Great and Wonderful Papyrus, do tell us the first step to making your amazing meal!”

“I SHALL! THE GREAT PAPYRUS SAYS THAT FIRST WE MUST MAKE NOODLES FROM SCRATCH! I WILL TAKE THIS FLOUR AND POUR IT INTO THIS MASSIVE HUMAN-SIZED BOWL!” The skeleton spoke as he did so, turning the large bag of flour over so it poured into the bowl. A squeak of surprise sounded out, followed by a clunk as something much more solid than flour fell into the bowl.

Eyes popped open, surprisingly visible within the mountain of powder. Then came the sneeze and the mound collapsed, revealing someone underneath. Frisk blinked, taking in their surroundings, before coughing. A handful of flour fell off the top of their head from the motion. What…was going on?

“And here we have yet another helper!” Mettaton said excitedly. Papyrus shook his head.

“NOPE. THAT IS…THE SECRET INGREDIENT!”

Frisk looked at the tall skeleton incredulously.

“THE SECRET INGREDIENT IS WHAT MAKES THE MEAL TASTE BETTER! ALTHOUGH IT MIGHT NOT BE A SECRET ANYMORE SINCE I AM TELLING EVERYONE OUT LOUD, SO PLEASE TRY AND KEEP QUIET ABOUT IT, PLEASE.” Papyrus continued, “THE SECRET TO A DELICIOUS PASTA…IS DETERMINATION!”

A very familiar battle cry let out and the wall behind the trio broke away. A shadowy figure flipped through the dust and debris and landed on the countertop in front of them.

“Did someone say determination?!”

“WOWIE! IT’S THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD! UNDYNE!” Papyrus excitedly shrieked, his gloved hands cupping either side of his bony face in fan boy joy.

“FABULOUS! We have yet another guest chef!” Mettaton cheered the crowd on.

“PAPYRUS!” Undyne pointed accusingly at the tall skeleton. “Have you forgotten what it takes to make a great meal?! It takes more than determination!”

She jumped down and proceeded to beat the rest of the ingredients. “It takes GUTS! It takes POWER! It takes HUNGER! Are you hungry, Papyrus?!”

“YES!”

“I can’t hear you! ARE. YOU. HUNGRY?!”

“YES! I AM HUNGRY!”

“THEN GO AND SHOW EVERYONE WHAT COOKING REALLY IS!”

“NYEEEEEEEEEEH!”

Frisk blinked as Papyrus raised his fist and a massive bone formed above their head. That…was very big. Surely Papyrus wouldn’t… Yes, yes he was. He was dropping the bone on them. Frisk shook their head and waved their arms rapidly, signaling to tall skeleton that this was getting dangerous. No such luck. There was no stopping him when Papyrus had that fire in his eye sockets.

“FOR THE ROYAL GUARD!! NYEEEEEEEEH!”

The bone dropped and Frisk covered their eyes, waiting to be crushed. They only hoped that the pasta came out delicious.

And then there was darkness.

* * *

 

Frisk sat up in bed and rubbed their eyes.  The dream just now had certainly been an odd one, indescribable really.  Sans was sure to get a kick out of it before asking if they were “hitting the ketchup before bed again.” Frisk always giggled at that.  Nope, they would have to learn to lay off the cheese before bed.  But it couldn’t be helped when it was Papyrus’ turn to cook dinner.  The skeleton chef always sprinkled a mountain of cheese on everyone’s pasta every time he cooked, and while it made his already superb pasta tastier, it also tended to give everyone odd dreams.

By the sounds of things, they were not the only ones dreaming.  Papyrus and Sans shared a room and were located next door to Frisk, and through the wall Frisk could hear faint mumbles that no doubt came from the skeleton warrior.  Something about fending off the white dog from consuming his latest spaghetti recipe, or his bones.  Sans was probably out cold and deaf to the world around him, as per usual.  Ever the lazy bones.

Frisk swung their legs over the side of the bed and slipped their feet into their cozy bunny slippers.  Wintertime on the surface felt colder than Snowdin, and Toriel insisted that everyone wear slippers around the house to avoid catching a cold.  Ever the doting mother, she was.  She wouldn’t mind if Frisk slipped down to the kitchen and got something to drink, would she? Just a little something to help fall back to sleep after that odd dream.

The tiny human opened the door to the bedroom, hearing their monster mother’s soft breathing through her own bedroom door, and tiptoed down the stairs.  It was dark in the living room, more so in the kitchen, and they didn’t want to turn on any lights.  Besides, it wasn’t the first time they had snuck a midnight snack and the kitchen blueprints were practically engraved in their brain, especially where the spider doughnuts were hidden.  But tonight they just felt like having a glass of milk.

Frisk opened the enormous refrigerator and, balancing on their tiptoes, plucked the milk out of the door.  They kept the door open as a light source for now and set the milk on the counter.  Now for a glass…which was going to be a lot harder for the tiny human to acquire.  Using all their strength, they climbed onto the countertop and took a moment to catch their breath.  Climbing in the kitchen, especially one made for a humongous goat monster, felt like climbing a mountain.  Frisk only hoped that with enough milk they could grow to be as tall as Toriel.

Now, which cabinet were the glasses in again?

Frisk pulled open the first cabinet door a bit too eagerly and backed up quickly to avoid being hit in the face, and ended up bumping into something solid.  Oh no! There was a loud clatter as the block made contact with the floor, and Frisk realized that it was the block holding all of the knives.  Uh oh, better clean that up first before an accident happened.  They carefully climbed down from the counter, taking care not to accidentally step on a sharp knife themselves, and returned each knife to the proper slot.

The fridge suddenly slammed shut in the middle of the task and Frisk squeaked, scared that they had been caught in the act by Toriel.  The glowing blue light that they saw emanating through the darkness made them realize it was not Toriel, but…

“Sans…?” Frisk called.  One of the knives was still clutched in their hand.

Suddenly, they felt a chill in their soul and looked down, realizing that it had turned from a vibrant red to an icy blue.  The soft padding of slippers resounded through the quiet kitchen, and every step made Frisk tense up until the blue glow was shining right in their face.  Sans’ skeletal face was illuminated by the blue glow of his magic coming from his left eye.

When he spoke, his tone was devoid of any laughter or humor, and sent chills down Frisk’s spine.

“ _What do you think you’re doing with that, kiddo?_ ”


	2. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a serious misunderstanding and someone has a breakdown.

“S-sans?” Frisk whispered.

The skeleton used the power of his blue magic to levitate the tiny human so they were at eye level.  They had still not dropped the knife.

“ _What are you going to do with that?_ ”

“I-I don’t k-know what--”

“ _DON’T.”_

Frisk involuntarily shuddered at hearing the closest thing to a shout come from Sans.  Sans the Skeleton, the laid-back comic with a love of ketchup, and an even larger love for jokes and naps.  The very same Sans who was holding them against their will.  The same Sans with the power to destroy with a snap of his bony fingers.

“I’ll ask you again, kid,” Sans said, “ _What are you planning on doing with that thing in your hand?_ ”

“I was putting it back!” Frisk finally found their voice, albeit squeaky and filled with fear.

Sans, using his magic, shook the human in front of him.

“Oh you were, were you?” He leaned in close.  “Then why haven’t you dropped it yet?”

Frisk felt the oak handle of the knife fit snugly in their palm.  It felt familiar, eerily so, and while they didn’t like knives they didn’t want to drop it either.  They wanted to but their fingers refused to acknowledge.

“Sans…why are you doing this?” Frisk asked their voice softer than normal and quavering with evident fear.

That seemed to cause Sans to pause.  “You’re asking me why?”

He doubled over and for a brief moment the tiny human thought, almost hoped, that he was in pain.  They mentally chastised themselves for thinking such terrible thoughts, but were quickly pulled from their reverie when they heard laughter.

Sans was laughing.  Honest to God laughing.  At them.

“ _You’re_ asking me why? _You_ of all people? _YOU?_ ” The skeleton chortled, tears pricking the corners of his eye sockets.  Frisk blinked, very confused as to what the skeleton meant.  Was this an inside joke? Was Sans upset that they missed the punch line?

Almost as quickly as he had started Sans stopped.  He glared at them, left eye flaring brighter than before.  Another set of eyes glimmered in the dark, just as bright and menacing.

“ _You’re tickling my funny bone, kid._ ” He leaned in closer this time, his tone just as menacing.  The other set of eyes remained where they were.  “ _Don’t do that._ ”

Frisk hovered where they were, frozen in fear.  They still hadn’t lost grip on the knife.  Maybe if they dropped it then Sans would let them go? The tiny human found that their fingers wouldn’t budge, almost as if they _wanted_ to keep the knife.

Sans followed their gaze to the knife.  “Yeah, I see that.  Looks pretty sharp.  Thinking of taking it back to your room? Or maybe…”

He leaned in even closer, to the point where they were almost touching heads, gazing into their frightened brown eyes with his lone blue fiery one.

“Tori’s room?”

Frisk blinked, further confusion and shock etched across their young features.

“Yeah, then maybe you’d take it to Papyrus?”

What on earth was Sans talking about? Why would they take the knife to either of them?

“ _I’m sure Papyrus’ **head would roll** as soon as he saw it._ ”

What was he implying?!

“So kiddo, I’m gonna ask for the final time,” the small but terrifying skeleton spoke, his menacing gravely tone back and in full force, “ _What are you planning to do with that?_ ”

“N-nothing! I was p-putting it b-back!” Frisk finally found their voice, small and shaky.  Sans didn’t seem impressed.

“I come down to the kitchen for a drink and I find you holding a knife.  Didn’t seem like you were putting it back.”

“I was!” Frisk insisted.

“What were you doing down here?”

“I was getting a glass of milk!”

“What were you doing with the knife?”

“I said I was putting it back!”

“What were you going to do with it?”

“Nothing!”

“ _DON’T LIE TO ME._ ”

Frisk just wanted this to be over.  They didn’t care if they didn’t get their milk.  They didn’t care if Toriel came in now and scolded them for being up in the middle of the night.  They didn’t care if they ended up grounded for the next week or more.

They just wanted Sans to let them go.

“Who was it going to be first? Huh? _Papyrus_? Did you think that you could catch him off guard in his sleep? Or maybe you were going to go after _Tori_ first, hmm? Get ‘mama’ out of the way first by using those charms of yours to backstab her when she wasn’t looking? Or maybe…”

The skeleton’s sockets went dark.

“ _Maybe you wanted a rematch, huh?_ ”

“N-n-no…!”

 _"Been itching for a chance to have another bad time? Want to get dunked on yet again?_ ”

“No, no!”

“ _Want to take away everyone’s happiness?_ ”

“No!”

“ _Well kid…_ ” The glowing eyes behind Sans were illuminated, revealing the Blaster ready to fire.  “ _I’m not gonna let you kill everyone.  Not again.  Not ever.  You hear me, monster?_ ”

The Blaster hummed as it charged up, the energy in its maw illuminating the entire kitchen.  Frisk felt tears build into their sockets.  They were going to die, and if they died…they would have to reset.  Back to the Underground.

Back to when the monsters were imprisoned.

Back to when everybody was unhappy.

Back to when they were alone in a dark and terrible place.

No! No, they didn’t want that! No!

NO!

NO!!!

“NOOOOOOOO!” Frisk screamed.  They didn’t know how long they screamed for, knowing only that their throat was raw and yet they didn’t stop.  Not when they felt their feet touch the ground.  Not when the kitchen light was turned on.

They stopped only when they felt soft fur against their face, muffling their screams.  They didn’t even look into Toriel’s concerned eyes.  They buried their face into her fur and sobbed.  They cried until there were no more tears to shed, and their voice, tired from overuse, went silent.  They felt the knife finally drop.

Only when darkness took them did they finally stop.

* * *

Frisk shifted in discomfort in the darkness.  Why couldn’t they move? Why couldn’t they run away? It would be better for everyone if they could just run away.  They stopped their struggle when they heard hushed voices.

They were too quiet to hear, and when they tried to shuffle closer to listen in the tiny human found themselves toppling over the side of their bed and the floor coming up to greet them.  Someone had brought them up to bed, and that same someone had no doubt wrapped them up tightly in their bed sheets, like they were afraid that they were going to just fly away and disappear.

They stiffened when the door opened and a white slipper stepped into their room.  A white slipper connected to a white sock-laden foot, which connected to an equally white, bony leg.

Frisk wiggled up against the bed in fear.  Sans was here…Sans was here… He was going to kill them this time…they were going to die!

They squished their eyes shut, waiting for the killing blows that would shatter their soul.  That would force them into a reset.

But it never came.

When Frisk did open their eyes, Sans was kneeling in front of them.  He was holding two items in his hands.  He offered one of them to Frisk.

A glass of milk.

“Kiddo…” The abnormally quiet skeleton spoke, which caused the tiny human to flinch in both surprise and fear.

He sighed.  “I think we need to have a talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter broke my heart. It hurt to write and I'm still not satisfied with it. But, of course, the story must go on and should conclude in the next chapter.
> 
> Kudos to anyone still reading and wanting more!


	3. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which someone has a bad time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things--
> 
> 1) It's been a while since I came back to this and I apologize; work has been a pain in my derriere and I finally had the time to sit at my computer and work on this story. Also I have a minor cold and have been in the process of hacking up a lung. Nothing yet.
> 
> 2) I did release chapter 3 yesterday, but upon taking another glance I realized I wasn't happy with the end result and thus took it down to edit it. This chapter is the modified version.
> 
> 3) You may notice that this chapter is longer, and part of the reason I took the previous version down is because I didn't like where it ended off. I wanted it to end with a dash of suspense and more insight to how the four characters have been living together under the same roof.
> 
> 4) Don't worry, you'll learn about my Frisk's backstory in bits and pieces until they finally decide to spill the story for themselves.
> 
> With that done, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

In the darkness of the bedroom neither figure spoke.  Maybe too anxious to speak up, or was it shame? Frisk sat up in bed holding their glass of milk.  They hadn’t yet taken a sip, opting to hold it while tracing circles along the rim.  Every so often they would steal a glance at the figure seated next to their bed.  Sans had chosen to keep his distance from the tiny human, and had taken to seating himself in the desk chair.  Frisk was still very wary of the skeleton, and for good reason.

“You okay, kiddo?”

They jumped at the low rumble of the other’s voice and almost spilled their milk.  Sans sighed but didn’t lean in to take the glass from the other.  After what had almost happened in the kitchen it wouldn’t be right to so much as reach for the kid, much less sit down next to them.  They were still shaken, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t too.

He had woken in the middle of the night, as he tended to do, and decided to go downstairs for a drink.  Toriel and Papyrus had spent enough time with him in their new home to know that he was a restless sleeper and that he would often wake up in the middle of the night with a pounding soul from whatever nightmares plagued his dreams.  So both monsters had taken the liberty of trying to help coax the skeleton of any anxiety he carried around; with Papyrus buying lavender-scented candles and Toriel, with help from Asgore, brewing up a magic-infused tea to help calm the nerves.  Sans decided that maybe now was a good time to try out the tea and hoped that it would help him relax enough to get a decent night’s sleep.  He wasn’t expecting to see Frisk downstairs as well.  Certainly not with a knife in their hands.

Seeing that weapon in the human’s hands had sent him reeling through so many memories, and none of them good.  The golden walls of the Judgement Hall spattered with blood— _human blood_.  The indescribable feeling of pain as the sharp blade of a knife slashed across his chest.  And that laugh, that damn laugh that passed from the human’s lips every time they kept coming back for more.  The dust of his friends caked on the kid’s clothes and hair.  The knife gleaming in their hand.

Upon seeing the knife in Frisk’s hand, Sans lost it.  He had leapt in without thinking and grabbed hold of their soul.  He had readied a Blaster and intended to use it.  He had _almost_ used it.  On a child who couldn’t have been older than seven.  Stars, what would his family—existing and current—have thought of him had they discovered their “savior’s” mutilated corpse on the stone floor of the kitchen, with _his_ magic charged and drawn and evidently dispelled all over that small body? What would he have thought of _himself_ after? Sans wasn’t even sure if he would be able to properly justify that kill to the others, much less himself.  And he was the King’s—former—Judge.

The King’s Judge was supposed to act as judge, jury, and sometimes executioner.  The Judge was supposed to have a sound mind and soul when passing judgment on those who had come to the Judgment Hall, whether by summons or by their own volition.  It wouldn’t have been his first time ending a human child, not by a long shot.  Those kills, resets and all, were all justified in his eyes.  He had ended a murderer, not a child.  But this time, when everyone was on the surface and happy and seeing the sun and stars every waking day and ending night…

“S…sans?” Frisk’s soft voice almost made him jump.  The skeleton blinked and looked at the human, who seemed even smaller in the midst of a giant bed.  Their eyes were just as soft and moist with unshed tears, and filled with fear.  Those were not the eyes of a murderer.  They were the eyes of a child, honest and true, and to extinguish that life from existence…

…it wasn’t right.

“Sans…I’m sorry.”

Sans wordlessly took a sip of his own drink.  The harsh burn of whiskey slid down his nonexistent throat and pooled into his soul.  Oh stars, did he need this right now.

Frisk continued.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for everything.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”

“Slow down there, kiddo.  I didn’t even say anything.” Sans fought the urge to pat them on the shoulder.

“You don’t have to.  I know I fucked up.” Frisk lowered their head.  Sans almost choked on his whiskey.

“Geez, language.  You want Tori to catch you saying stuff like that?” He sighed, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“But I do!” Frisk insisted.  Sans shook his head.

“I’m the one screwed up in the head.  I thought I saw something and it turned out it wasn’t there.  _I_ fucked up.” He stole a glance at the door in case Toriel was listening in on them.  There would be hell to pay if she caught them swearing, Frisk especially.

“But, Sans!”

“Enough, kid.  I’m apologizing to you now, so let’s let bygone be bygones.”

“You’re not the one at fault!”

Sans looked at them seriously.  “You think having a couple of Blasters aimed at your face doesn’t make me at fault? They’re _my_ Blasters, _my_ magic.  I didn’t see anyone else around who’s able to wield that kind of magic.”

“But—”

“I was going to _kill_ you, okay? I was going to stick several bones in you and then blast your remains until all that was left was ash.  _I wanted to kill you_.  Stars, you think I like having this conversation?” Sans tipped back more whiskey.

“It wouldn’t have been the first time you killed me.” Frisk said softly.  That was enough to get Sans coughing for real.  He pounded his sternum and willed the whiskey to ease up on its abuse.

“What…cough…what are you talking…cough cough…about? I’ve never killed you.” He set his glass on the nightstand to avoid spillage.

Frisk glared at him.  “Now who’s the liar?”

“Kid, we’re not starting this—”

“I _remember_ , Sans! I remember _everything_! So don’t tell me you don’t fucking remember every time we met in the Judgment Hall!” Frisk shouted.

Sans took another look at the door.  He didn’t hear any sounds of shuffling feet from across the hall or his bedroom next door.  Papyrus was normally a light sleeper and Toriel was quick on her feet when she heard trouble brewing.  The fact that neither was awake yet was odd but maybe this was the perfect opportunity.  He glanced at his empty glass on the nightstand.  He was going to need another drink for this.

“Come with me.” He stood abruptly and snagged Frisk by the sleeve of their pajamas and used a shortcut to leave the room.

It wouldn’t do to have someone listening in on their conversation, especially one as dangerous as this.

* * *

Sans sat at the kitchen table nursing a new drink.  Frisk was still holding their glass of milk but at least they were drinking now.  Small, nervous sips.  Neither knew how to start the conversation, just kept drinking their drinks.  Frisk coughed, and Sans took the plunge.

“Were you going to do it?”

Frisk snapped out of their stupor and gazed at the skeleton with half-lidded eyes.  “What?”

“Were you going to…?” He tried to find the appropriate word.  “Reset?”

“Reset?” Frisk’s eyes widened.  “Reset? No, no! I wasn’t! I swear I was just picking up the knife!”

“The knife that just so happened to fall out of the block on the counter?”

Frisk nodded.  “I knocked it over when I was trying to look for the glasses.  For my milk.  I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.”

“ _But you did_.”

It was Frisk’s turn to go silent.  They knew exactly what the other was talking about.  It didn’t need to be spoken aloud, but they both knew.  They nodded and noticed the bony hand gripping the whiskey glass twitch ever so slightly.

“We may be monsters, but we’re still people.  You knew that and you hurt us anyway.” Sans took a sip of his whiskey.  “ _Many times_.”

The human swallowed hard.  They could feel their sins crawling on their back.

“I’m so—” They began but were cut off by Sans slamming their glass on the table.

“Do you think saying you’re sorry is going to make up for all the lives that you ended?!” He snapped, his left eye glowing dangerously.  Sans wasn’t much taller than they were, but right now he seemed like a giant with his intimidating aura.  The room felt larger than it was, and Frisk had flashbacks to a hall filled with golden light.

“Is saying sorry going to bring back all of the monsters you cut down during your little murder spree?! All of those innocent Froggits and Whimsuns and Moldsmals.  You think a little Moldsmal was enough to scare the pants off you that you had to grind it to dust?

_'Oh no, monsters are evil! I should just kill them all!’_

You’re like the rest of your kind.  Selfish!”

He slammed the glass again.  “Ignorant!”

And again.  “Homicidal!”

He slammed his glass one last time and growled, “I should have just killed you and been done with it! Then I wouldn’t have to put up with worrying about whether you’re going to reset the fucking world or not! If you’re going to do it, then do it! I don’t fucking care anymore!”

The skeleton pushed his chair back and Frisk hopped out of theirs.

“Sans, please just listen to me! I wasn’t going to reset, I swear!” They begged and tugged on his track pants.  The last thing they expected to feel was a bony hand collide with their face.  Frisk fell onto the hard floor clutching their cheek.

“Don’t fucking touch me, you dirty brother killer!” Sans growled, eye flaring with magic at the ready.  “Go ahead and reset.  I’ll kill you as many times as it takes, and when that day comes maybe you’ll learn it’s better for you to actually stay dead.  We’re not your playthings.”

Before Frisk could reach for him again, he teleported away.

They could have run up the stairs and begged for forgiveness, but that would only serve to wake up Toriel and Papyrus yet again.  They wouldn’t understand and couldn’t be involved in something like this.  Sans was the only one who knew what had happened, and yet…

Frisk winced as they felt their cheek, hot and no doubt bearing an angry red mark.  Toriel was going to freak out if she saw that.  The tiny human reached for Sans’ whiskey glass and pressed it to their injured cheek.  Condensation dripped from the glassy surface onto the table and intermingled with their tears.

This wasn’t right.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.  Sans was angry with them, and he had every right to be; but why couldn’t he have taken the chance to listen to them? They weren’t going to hurt anyone anymore.  They weren’t going to reset anymore.  They promised…

The ice in the glass clinked and Frisk pulled it away to look at it.  There was still some golden liquid left, just enough for a small sip.  The tiny human dipped a finger into the fluid and brought it to their lips.  The taste of straight alcohol sent a chill down their spine and burned as it travelled down their throat.  The sparse warmth in Frisk’s chest bloomed as the drink took effect, and they couldn’t help but allow themselves a small smile at the familiarity of it all.

It was as if a long-lost friend had returned.

* * *

With the morning light came the chirping of the birds.  Toriel hummed a cheerful melody as she prepared breakfast.  She hadn’t known what to expect on the surface, but every day spent above Mt. Ebott breathing in clean, refreshing air was a good day.  Actual sunlight would shine through the windows of the house and birds, not bird monsters, would grace her presence as she cleaned.  Life was wonderful here on the surface, much more so now that she wasn’t alone.

And yet…

She glanced at the dish rack and a small frown graced her features.  There was a lone whiskey glass set on one of the prongs, clean and shiny.  In fact, the whole kitchen was sparkling when she set foot in it about an hour ago.  If she didn’t know any better, she would think that a stray Woshua had found its way into their home and polished it from head to toe.  But Toriel knew the real culprit.  He was the only other skeleton monster in the house and the only resident who drank alcohol.  He always did this to cover his tracks after a drinking binge, but apparently he wasn’t that clever.

Toriel sighed as she plated the eggs, bacon, and toast onto four dishes.  She never understood what it was that drove Sans to drink as much as he did, and tried as she did to ask him the stout skeleton would only crack jokes.  Perhaps it was better that she didn’t know, but that didn’t mean the loving goat monster would stand for this kind of behavior.  In fact, today she would sit him down after she got home from work and ask him why he drank.  A glass or two was fine in her book, but downing a bottle like it was water was downright ridiculous.

A creak from the stairs broke Toriel out of her stupor and she saw the fuzzy head of her adoptive child peeking into the kitchen.

“Oh, good morning, my child!” She waved to them to come to the table.  “You’re up early.  I was just about to come get you.”

“I thought it was better to start getting up on my own.” Frisk said quickly as they dug into their breakfast.

Toriel chortled, “Well if that’s how it’s going to be from now on, then maybe _I_ should start sleeping in.  You can wake _me_ up.”

Frisk giggled as they continued to eat.  “You’re going to become a lazybones!”

“Only if you don’t wake me up, little one.” Toriel hummed as she set the kettle on the stove to boil.  Several muffled yells and the sound of musical instruments banging echoed from upstairs.  “Speaking of waking up, it sounds like Papyrus isn’t having any luck getting Sans up.  Again.  Stars, how can that skeleton sleep through all that noise? It’s the world’s biggest mystery.”

She didn’t notice the tension in Frisk’s body.  The human child quickly gathered up their plate and utensils and took them to the sink.  Toriel was momentarily confused.

“Frisk, dear, I can handle the dishes.”

“No, I got them.” Frisk grunted as they climbed the cabinets.  They squeaked as Toriel plucked them off the countertop and set them on the floor.  She looked at them crossly.

“Frisk, you know the rules about climbing in this kitchen.  Let me handle the dishes.”

“I want to do them myself.”

“Frisk…”

“I can do them.  I just need to reach the sink.”

“My child, what is this about?”

“Please! I can do them!” Frisk pleaded. “I’ll grow taller, I swear!”

Toriel didn’t know what to do.  Her human child had never used that tone before.

“Can you get me a stool? I’ll be able to do the dishes then.”

“Frisk,” the goat monster took hold of the tiny one’s shoulders and looked them in the eyes.  “What’s wrong? Why do you suddenly want to do the dishes?”

“I…I just want to help, Mom.  I feel bad about making you do all the housework.” Frisk said in a soft tone, eyes downcast.

“Oh, my love.  You know I don’t mind it, and Papyrus does help.  Sans…well, anyway we’re fine.” She saw the defeated stance and decided to compromise.  “Well, maybe you can do the dinner dishes tonight after you’re done with your homework.  Does that sound good?”

Frisk nodded and was about to pull away until something caught Toriel’s eye.  She pulled the human child back in and cupped their cheek.  It was difficult to tell due to Frisk’s tanned complexion, but there was a dark spot on their left cheek that look suspiciously like a bruise.  That wasn’t there yesterday.  “What’s this?”

“Mom, please.  It isn’t anything.”

“How did you get this? Did someone hurt you?”

“No!” Frisk said quickly.  “No one hit me! I was trying to get out of bed this morning and I bumped into my nightstand.  I couldn’t move.”

Toriel was about to call them out on their silly excuse, then hummed thoughtfully.  “I…suppose I’ll need to have a talk with Papyrus about his ‘mummification bed sheet technique.’ Just be careful from now on, okay, sweetie?”

Frisk nodded and pecked Toriel’s furry cheek before rushing over to the entryway.  The goat monster followed and watched as the tiny human collected their backpack and slipped their boots on.  “Frisk, dear, are you sure you don’t want to sleep in a bit? Your eyes look a bit red.”

The human flashed them a wide smile.  “I’m feeling great, Mom.  Don’t worry; I’ll still be ready to wash the dishes tonight.”

“Okay, but—”

And then they were out the door.  Toriel sighed and watched them run towards the bus stop before closing the front door with a soft click.  Children waking up early and begging to do housework…what in the stars’ name was next? Was Sans actually going to wake up early for a change too? She chuckled at the thought and walked back into the kitchen, and proceeded to wash Frisk’s dishes.  She hummed a little tune as she thought of her sweet, dear adoptive child and their eagerness to help around the house.

She thought nothing more of the bruise when Papyrus came downstairs with a still snoring Sans slung over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record I would like to say that I am disappointed with how much of an asshole I made Sans into. It works for story purposes, but goddamn I want cuddly Sans. *goes to Underswap*


	4. Fragments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is an inkling of unpleasant memories.

Frisk felt like this was the longest day of their life.  Normally school was great and they enjoyed spending every minute of the day with their friends and teacher.  Toriel wasn’t their regular teacher, due to her newly assigned duties as Principal of Sunny Surface School for Monster Children, now newly reformed to integrate human children; but she still stopped by to teach part of the class every once in a while.  Those were fun times.

But now, Frisk would rather keep far away from their adoptive mother for as long as possible.  Despite their attempts to hide she had already discovered the bruise, and there would be hell to pay if she learned where it had come from.  But they had no intention of ever telling anyone.  In their mind, they deserved to be struck.  After all of the pain they had caused to monsters—no, they should be thought of as people—they deserved to suffer and die for their sins, and if Frisk could end it all they would.  But it was impossible, and all because of a little thing in their soul called Determination.

Death was not the end for them, merely an opportunity to be “reborn”, so to speak, and attempt better against the hazards of life.  They bitterly wondered where this opportunity was when they—

“Frisk! Are you sleeping?”

Frisk was startled out of their musings and looked up to see Monster Kid standing right next to them.  “Oh, hey Marvin.  What’s up?”

“The recess bell just rang! Come on, let’s go play!” Marvin the Monster Kid said excitedly and ran to the door, tripping and falling flat on his face.  Frisk was about to stand up and help them, but the small monster stood up on his own and continued running with a large smile on his face.  The tiny human wondered how the monster could stand to live without arms, but they supposed he did well enough without them.  It never seemed to bother him and he always shrugged off any help.  It was admirable.

Frisk sat up and stretched, feeling their vertebrae pop and a sense of relief for finally sitting up straight.  They pushed their chair in and walked over to the cubbies to retrieve their recess snack before finally setting foot out the door.  The halls were empty save for a few teachers making their way to the staff room, and they heard the hum of the copier echo from the office.  It seemed so strange that despite everything that was going through the human’s mind, everything felt like just another ordinary day.  It was nostalgic, yet strangely comforting.

_(Walking through the halls of their school.  Limping.  Checking to see if their clothes were hiding everything.  Would anyone notice anything out of the ordinary today? Would anyone care?)_

“Frisk?” The tiny human looked up to see Toriel poking her head out of the staff room.  “My child, did you not hear the bell?”

“Sorry, Mom.  I’ll go now.” Frisk said quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid seeing their adoptive mother’s brow furrow.

The goat monster stepped fully out of the staff room and closed the distance.  She put a massive furry paw on her young one’s shoulder.  “Sweetheart, is everything okay? You seem…different.”

“I’m just a little tired, Mom.” Frisk assured her.  The furrow seemed to lessen.

“If you’re tired, you should rest.  Would you like to sleep in my office?”

_(“Is there something you want to tell me?” A shake of their head, signaling a ‘no’.  A sigh.)_

“Mom, I’ll be fine.  Can I go to recess now?”

Toriel sighed and nodded.  “Please take care of yourself.  I will see you later.”

“Later, Mom.” And with that, Frisk was gone.

* * *

The playground was filled with the playful cheers of children, both monster and human.  Frisk sat at one of the benches munching on their snack and watched as everyone else ran around.  Marvin, the Monster Kid, was playing handball with a group of humans.  Frisk chuckled at the pun, merely watching as the human children awed at the small monster’s stellar skills despite not having any arms.  They recognized other monster children too.

Cinnamon, the tiny bunny from Snowdin, was playing tag with his siblings and the slime family, Chester and Nester.  A child Loox named Lois was making a sandcastle in the sandbox.  A wolf monster was tending to the flowers in the garden with the tiny yellow bird from Waterfall perched happily on their head.

It was picture perfect, a happy collaboration between human and monster.  The future that monsterkind had wanted for so long, and here it was in reality.  It was enough to bring forth a small smile to Frisk’s face.

“Hey, Frisk!” They turned to see one of the slime monsters with a red cap calling out to them.  “Want to play ‘Monsters and Humans’?”

Frisk held up the remains of their snack.  “Maybe later, Nester.”

“Aww, no fun!” Nester the slime moaned.  “Anyone want to play ‘Monsters and Humans’?”

A small crowd of children gathered excitedly.  Frisk pulled out a spider doughnut from their snack bag and took a small bite, watching the whole affair.  They remembered playing with the slime siblings back in Snowdin, and the mixed looks from nearby adult monsters.  Those had been the days of carefree play back in the Underground.

They took another nibble of doughnut as they watched children run amok, sipping their apple juice to wash it down.

“Eeek, a human!” One monster playfully screeched, “Run away!”

The other children ran giggling from a small girl with long dark locks.  Frisk froze upon seeing her in her pink-and-purple striped shirt and holding a stick.  The girl was really into character, chasing down the ‘Monsters” and delivering a seemingly harsh, but very gentle tap, almost a tickle.

“Ah-hah! You can’t run away from me, you foul creatures!” She laughed, “Run, run, run as fast as you can; you can’t from me, I’m the Human Boogeyman!”

“Oh no, she’s ‘killing’ us!” Marvin laughed as he stood in place, following the rules of ‘freeze when touched’.  The ‘Human’ girl turned around and raised her arms to the sky.  Frisk was entranced.

“I will capture all of you!”

_(I will kill all of you.)_

“You shall not invade our human world!”

_(You don’t belong in this world.)_

“You will see justice by the hand of my mighty Excalibur!”

_(You will die by my blade.)_

Everything came to a halt when the bell rang, signaling the end of recess.  The children groaned and promised to continue the game after lunch.  The ‘Human’ girl tossed away her stick and ran back to the classroom.  Frisk sat at the bench, clutching a crushed spider doughnut in one hand and broken glass from their juice bottle in the other.  Red liquid trickled down their hand and dripped onto the asphalt.  They didn’t notice.

They were lost in howling memories of dust, blood, and tears.


	5. Discomfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are more bad reminders, and Papyrus has explicit rules regarding puns in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like the story is starting to flow, and there's a heck of a lot more chapters than I thought there would be. I'm sorry if it's a bit slow, but I'm trying to build it up nicely before everything is revealed; and everything will be revealed in due time.

The final bell rang.  Toriel sighed and set down her pen.  She stretched in her chair, savoring the feeling of her vertebrae popping back into place.  ‘Principal Dreemurr’ was a nice title but the amount of paperwork that came with it was mind numbing.  There had never been this much paperwork when she was still in the classroom.  It took hours to get through one stack, and that was just the financial details.  Being the Principal of Sunny Surface School for Monster Children was an important job, but it didn’t feel right for her.  She wanted to be back in the classroom doing what she loved most, and that was teaching little ones.  She wanted to go back to being ‘just Toriel’.

Gazing at the remains of the paperwork had her sighing.  She was going to be home later than planned, but hopefully Papyrus would be able to take care of dinner.  The tall skeleton had been taking cooking lessons proper and the quality of his food had drastically improved, especially the spaghetti.  Surely he could handle cooking for everyone tonight.

Reaching into her purse, Toriel retrieved her phone and searched through her contacts, pulling up Papyrus’ contact information.

* * *

As soon as the final bell rang, Frisk shoveled everything into their backpack and rushed out the door.  They didn’t say goodbye to any of their friend or teachers.  Just kept a quick pace as they walked towards the entrance of the school, double doors thrown wide open as parents arrived to pick their children up.  They didn’t want to be caught by Toriel again.

The tiny human had no trouble squeezing past adult monsters as they made their way out of the school and took off down Sunshine Street.  They internally scoffed at the name, thinking that it was the cruelest form of irony, and shoved their hands deeper into their pocket.  Their right hand throbbed in protest but they pushed the pain in the back of their mind.  This was far from the worst they had ever experienced.

_(“Are you going to cry now? Better get used to it.”)_

Frisk shook their head as marched on.  They had to get home.  Home was safe.  There they could crawl under the covers and sleep.  They could forget about everything.  But…home was…

They stopped when they realized where they were.  Sunshine Street had turned into Goodman Road, and the houses on this street were beginning to feel awfully familiar.  The house at the end of the corner had their blood freeze and heart skip a beat.  The peeling paint that they remembered had been given a fresh coat of blue, the porch had been fixed up and new wicker chairs had been placed, presenting a comfortable setting for an outdoor living room.  There were fresh flowers growing in the garden bed.  Frisk recognized some of them.

Agapanthus.  Daylilies.  Daisies.  Gaillardias.  Geraniums.

They picked a Gaillardia and sniffed it.  It smelled so fresh, with a touch of spice.  A nearby butterfly fluttered down to rest in the bed of the flower, flapping its wings, blissfully unaware of the world around it.  This was all so familiar…

Frisk froze in their tracks when they heard the front door open.  They turned to see a tiny face not much older than their own stare at them with the richest, bluest eyes with a shocked expression.  Frisk couldn’t tear their eyes away from the other child, but traveled to a just barely hidden mark between their shoulder and clavicle.

The other tiny human poked their head out further as if to get a good look at them, their clothing shifting as they moved.  Frisk’s eyes widened as they saw five distinct scars and their own shoulder throbbed at the sight.

“…Frisk?” The new child spoke in a small but questioning voice.  Just like that the trance was broken.

Frisk took off down the street as fast as they could and didn’t look back.  Leaving behind the child and the dreadfully familiar house, they allowed a sob to break through as they pushed the unwanted memories away.

* * *

“UH-HUH.  GOT IT.  I UNDERSTAND, LADY ASGORE.  OH, I APOLOGIZE, ‘LADY TORIEL’.  YES, I WILL PREPARE EVERYTHING FOR EVERYONE TONIGHT! NO ONE WILL BE UNSATISFIED WITH A DELICIOUS MEAL CREATED BY THE GREAT PAPYRYS! NYHEHEHEH! YES, I UNDERSTAND.  I WILL SEE YOU LATER TONIGHT.  ENJOY YOUR WORK!”

Papyrus hung up the phone with a sigh.

“Is Tori working late again?” Sans asked from his position on the couch.  Papyrus shook his head.

“INDEED.  LADY TORIEL REGRETS THAT SHE CAN’T BE HERE WITH US, BUT SHE HAS ENTRUSTED ME TO COOK DINNER FOR EVERYONE.” The tall skeleton sighed again.  “I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO EATING TOGETHER LIKE A FAMILY.”

“We are family, Paps.”

“I KNOW!” He spoke in a quieter tone, “But it’s not the same without everyone seated at the dinner table.  Sharing our thoughts and feelings about the day, cheering each other on to do better tomorrow, and all of that fun family bonding.”

Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  “Well, we can still do it.  Tori’s not gonna be here for the full experience, but the rest of us still can.  Let’s make it extra special.”

“DOES THAT INCLUDE YOU HELPING ME IN THE KITCHEN?” Papyrus hummed with a hand on his hips, tapping his foot.  Sans grinned.

“Sorry, bro.  Can’t cook.  It’s all up to you.”

“SANS! STOP BEING SUCH A LAZYBONES AND COME HELP ME!” The former Royal Guard trainee’s pleas fell on deaf ears as his older brother nestled into the couch.  Papyrus stomped and fumed all the way to the kitchen.

He could have simply slung his brother over his shoulder and forced him to help, but it wouldn’t have done anything.  Back when they were still living in Snowdin, Papyrus had done all of the cooking for them; anything Sans cooked ended up either burnt or morphed into a gelatinous, gray pile.  Which was questionable in itself because how in stars’ name did Sans manage to turn cornflakes into _that_??

Papyrus grumbled as he reached into the refrigerator for the ingredients required.  “Lazybones…”

He heard the front door open and Sans mutter a greeting to the newcomer, before turning and seeing Frisk come into the kitchen.  “HUMAN, ER—FRISK! WELCOME HOME!”

The tiny human took one glance and said, “Mom’s not going to be here for dinner, is she?”

“WELL, AHEM, SHE CALLED AND SAID SHE WOULD BE LATE FOR DINNER.  THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS IN CHARGE TODAY!” The tall skeleton said with a triumphant air, using his magic to make his scarf move as if there was a breeze.  That brought a small smile to the child’s face and, was he imagining it, some relief.

“Does the Great Papyrus need any help?” They offered meekly.  Papyrus thanked the stars that there was someone in this house that wanted to help him.  Not that he couldn’t do it himself, naturally, but cooking with friends was a great bonding experience.

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL HAPPILY TAKE YOU UNDER HIS WING, YOUNG HU—FRISK.  CAN YOU HANDLE CHOPPING UP THESE VEGETABLES?”

Frisk nodded and gathered up the offered vegetables.  They took them to the table where a cutting board had already been set up alongside a knife.  They looked warily at the knife, then at Papyrus, and back to the vegetables before grabbing the sharpened instrument.  Memories of the night before flooded before their eyes, and their grip on the handle tightened momentarily.

Papyrus must have noticed their anxiety.  “Frisk, if this is too much for you then I can do it.” He spoke in a softer, soothing tone.

Frisk shook their head.  “I can do it.”

As they chopped through the vegetables, with Papyrus supervising during the first few, they tried to keep calm.  Breathe in… _chop chop_ …breathe out… _chop chop_ …breathe in… _it’s just a vegetable_ …breathe out… _it’s not alive_ …breathe in…

_(Slicing and dicing every monster that came within sight, watching them crumble into dust…)_

Breathe out…

Papyrus was at the counter fiddling with some ground meat in a bowl.  He looked over his shoulder to see the vegetables all finely chopped to perfection and Frisk still holding the knife.  What was that expression in their eyes?

“THANK YOU, FRISK.  THAT’S ALL I NEED DONE FOR NOW.”

Frisk blinked and gazed up at them, glazed eyes clearing up as they quickly set the knife on the table.  Sans peeked his head into the kitchen before strolling in.

“Got the kid helping you, Paps?”

“YES, BECAUSE A CERTAIN _SOMEONE_ DECIDED TO HAVE A DATE WITH THE COUCH INSTEAD OF HELPING ME.” Papyrus said primly.  Frisk recognized the gleam in Sans’ eye lights.

“I was going to help but then I thought I ‘ _ottoman’_ take a little nap first.”

“Sans.” Papyrus said flatly.

“I shouldn’t participate since I’m such a ‘ _lazy boy’_.”

“Sans.”

“But then I come in and see that you and the kid are doing great ‘ _sofa-r_ ’.”

“SANS.”

“So I’ll just ‘ _reclin-er_ ’ here until you’re done.”

“SANS!!” The tall skeleton shrieked as he reached for the nearest wooden spoon and pointed it mock threateningly at his older brother.  Sans tossed up his hands in mock surrender.  “OUT OF THE KITCHEN!”

“Am I driving you a little ‘ _cook-y_ ’, baby bro?”

“OUT!!” Papyrus chased the small skeleton around the kitchen with the other laughing all the way.  Frisk slipped out of their chair and adjusted their striped shirt before walking out of the kitchen.  Papyrus was now chasing Sans around the couch; the small skeleton was cheating with his ‘shortcuts’ and that infuriated his younger brother all the more.  The scene was enough to cause the child to crack a small smile.  God, they loved these two so much.

“I SAID NO PUNS IN THE KITCHEN, SANS!”

“‘ _Bake_ ’ in my day, puns were allowed everywhere!” Sans laughed.

“YOUR ‘ _HALF-BAKED_ ’ PUNS TERRIBLE NO MATTER WHERE WE ARE!” Papyrus screeched, pausing momentarily to register what he had just said.  Sans laughed harder.  The chase started up again with renewed vigor.

Frisk quietly slipped up the stairs without either skeleton realizing.  They walked into the bathroom and locked the door before climbing onto the sink countertop.  Appraising themselves in the mirror, they noticed red cracks in their corneas and swollen eyelids.  This wouldn’t do.  They had to look presentable or someone was liable to catch on.  They looked at their injured hand, fresh blood trickling out of the wound.  It must have opened up back in the kitchen with the knife.  That had to be taken care of too.

Frisk opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved a small first aid kit.  There wasn’t really a need for such a thing in a house where healing magic was plentiful and freely given to those in need, but Toriel had gotten it as a courtesy to Frisk.  Any time they received a paper cut or scratch, or some other trivial injury that didn’t require healing magic, they could come in here and pat on a bandage.  Opening up the plastic container, they surveyed the items inside:  hydrogen peroxide, tweezers, gauze, antibiotic cream, and colorful band-aids.  Good, everything was here.

Gazing at their injured hand one last time, Frisk noted that it was probably going to scar.  It was also going to hurt.  That was fine; it wasn’t anything new.  They had a lot of practice.


	6. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Toriel and Papyrus discuss the weather, and there are more puns; because puns are awesome.

The lock clicked as Toriel turned her key and opened the door.  She sighed in relief when she saw that all was well in the house.  Sans was asleep on the couch with the TV on, as white noise no doubt; Papyrus was sitting next to him, knitting.  Frisk was nowhere to be seen.

“Welcome home, Lady Toriel!” Papyrus whispered loudly, stealing a glance at his brother to make sure he hadn’t been disturbed.

“Hello, Papyrus.” The gentle goat monster replied tiredly.  “How was dinner?”

“It went fantastically! Today we had meatloaf and everyone seemed to enjoy it.” The tall skeleton whispered excitedly.  “Although we missed you.”

“I’m sorry, Papyrus.  Being the Principal is more taxing than I thought.  I’ll certainly try to be here on time tomorrow to prepare dinner.”

“Oh, I didn’t mind it at all! Frisk even helped!”

“I’m glad.” Toriel gave him a genuine smile.  “Where are they, by the way?”

Papyrus motioned upstairs.  “After dinner they said they would do the dishes, and after that they went up to their room.  They looked dreadfully tired, so I’m sure they are sleeping.”

Toriel hummed in thought.  She had noticed her child’s sleepiness early this morning, but that was not all.  Frisk had been acting strange all day, and according to their teacher the child had been very withdrawn and not all there.  They almost seemed to have a far-off look in their eyes, as if they were lost in thought.  Truthfully, she was almost scared for the child when Frisk walked back to class after recess and didn’t pay her a second glance.  What was going on in that head of theirs?

“Maybe it’s the cold getting to them? The cold always made Undyne unnaturally sleepy whenever she came to visit back in Snowdin.” Papyrus offered.  Oops, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.  “Of course, she never wore a coat either.  I don’t think she even owns a coat.  Or anything with sleeves.”

“If so, then I suppose we should get them some warmer clothes.  I heard from my colleagues that winter time on the surface is much colder than it is in Snowdin.”

“Then I shall finish my work post haste! I was hoping to give them this for their birthday, but surprise gifts are nice too.” Papyrus looked at the item in his lap, which Toriel noticed was the beginnings of a red scarf similar to the one Papyrus always wore.  It looked plenty warm and she was sure that Frisk would love it.

She left the skeleton brothers to their business and moseyed into the kitchen, jaw dropping when she saw just how spotless it was.  Every surface was gleaming, and the dishes were all neatly stacked in the dish rack.  Frisk had done all of this? It seemed impossible for someone so tiny and exhausted, but here was the result of their determination for all to see.  No wonder the child was sleeping after having done all of this by themselves.

Passing by the brothers once again, Toriel walked up the stairs until they stopped in front of the tiny human’s room.  She knocked softly.  “Frisk, my child? Are you awake?”

There was no response.  The motherly goat monster quietly opened the door and saw a tiny lump under the covers.  She heard the soft snores indicating that Frisk was indeed asleep.  She tiptoed over to their bed.  The tiny human’s eyes were shut and their breathing was even.

Toriel brushed back their long bangs and stroked the spot between their eyes with her furry thumb.  Frisk sighed peacefully but did not wake up.  They deserved this rest and Toriel wasn’t going to deny them of that.  As she sat up, an odd smell caught her nose.  Sour, but mixed with an earthiness that she couldn’t place, and very strong.  It seemed to envelope the whole room.

The goat monster stood and sniffed out the suspect, checking everywhere until she found Frisk’s clothes from the day.  They reeked of the foul odor and the front right pocket of the jeans was stained.  Whatever the human had gotten into today must have really stunk.  These were going to need a good wash and Toriel would do her best to get them ready for her child tomorrow.

As she slunk out of the room as quietly as she came, she couldn’t help but think further about the clothing in her hands.  She could have sworn that she recognized this aroma.

* * *

Sans yawned as he sat up and stretched.  The sound of his vertebrae popping had Papyrus cringing.

“Must you always do that? Honestly, brother, it’s disturbing.”

Sans shrugged.  “It feels good.”

“It’s disgusting.” Papyrus shot back as he went back to his task.  His short brother stole a glance at the project.

“You making yourself a new scarf?”

“The Great Papyrus already has a majestic scarf.  Nyeheheh!” The tall skeleton gave a soft chortle as his scarf swayed in the magic-induced breeze.  “This one is for Frisk, so that they too can look as great as they are.  Plus it’s getting colder and humans appear to become cold easily.”

“Well yeah.  They have nerves under all that skin, Paps.”

“I know that, Sans, and that is why I’m making you a scarf as well.  Lady Toriel says that winters on the surface are colder than they are in Snowdin, and I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Aw, but Paps you know I can’t get sick,” the gleam was back and Sans grinned, “The cold goes right through me.”

“When I’m done you’ll be nice and toasty and…” Papyrus stopped his work and glared up at his older brother.  “Really, Sans? _Really?_ You’re still using that one?”

“As it _‘snow’_ happens, people love that one.”

“SANS!”

“Aw, come on, bro! You’re smiling!”

“I AM AND I HATE IT! GO MAKE YOUR PUNS ELSEWHERE!”

“No need to give me the _‘cold shoulder’_.”

Papyrus reached for the nearest pillow and would have chucked it at his older brother had he not teleported away, and instead pressed it to his face and screamed all of his frustrations into the plush cushion.  As much as he loved his brother, he really wanted to (gently) bonk him over the head sometimes.  Or toss out that pile of joke books in their room.

Sans was chuckling to himself in the kitchen.  He knew Papyrus wasn’t truly angry with him; he secretly loved his puns and was too prideful to admit it.  He was working on his next joke as he carried a stool over to the counter-top.

A small drink would be enough to help him sleep tonight; not that he didn’t want to try the tea that his new family had prepared for him.  Today hadn’t been a stressful day, but he had been feeling on edge since that small incident the night before.  He hadn’t meant to snap at the kid like that, but alcohol had the damned curse of bringing forth one’s true thoughts, and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t harbor some resentment for all of the genocide runs he had been forced to sit through.  All those times the kid had opted to kill every monster in sight instead of being merciful; all of the times he had been forced to watch Papyrus being cut down in cold blood.  And yet, his younger brother had never seemed to lose faith in the child, always saying that he knew that they would do better next time.  His naiveté awed and angered Sans; but he had a point.  Frisk did improve, although not right away.

After countless genocide runs, the child had suddenly started leaving monsters alone as they journeyed to New Home.  They were no longer interested in gaining LOVE.

After countless neutral runs, they had started demonstrating kindness, seemingly not even thinking about making their way out of the mountain.  It had taken more than a few resets, but they had helped everyone:  Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, and him, to name a few.  They didn’t even carry a weapon with them the whole way through that final route, the Pacifist Route.  Sans couldn’t find a single drop of LOVE on them all those times he had judged them in the later routes.  Something had changed in the kid for the better, and now here they were on the surface.  Seeing bright, beautiful, natural sunlight every waking day and glittering stars at night that weren’t the crystal gemstones in Waterfall’s cavern.  As much as Sans despised who Frisk had been in the past, he could never hate the kind, loving child who had freed all of monsterkind from their mountain prison.  They owed the child more than they could possibly offer.

Even if no one else remembered the resets, Sans did, and he wasn’t going to let this hero’s journey fade from memory.  It was a prime example of the best of humanity, that even the worst person could change for the better.  Tonight, he would have a toast for Frisk, the human child who found it in their soul to give monsters a chance.  The small skeleton grunted as he pulled open the cabinet door and almost gawked in surprise.

The bottle of whiskey was gone.


	7. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Toriel suspects that there is something very wrong with Frisk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been on a huge Jurassic Park binge ever since the release date for the fifth film came out and I may have been neglecting my writing in favor of watching endless videos filled with Jurassic content... I'm sorry. *bows repeatedly* But I haven't forgotten this story! I'm still writing chapters and plan to upload them when I can find the time in between the holiday clusterfuck that is Thanksgiving and Christmas/Yule. Don't despair!

Frisk was sick.

Toriel hummed as she stuck the thermometer under Frisk’s tongue, though not without some struggle.  The child in question had opposed any medical treatment the moment their adoptive mother found them still in bed when it was almost time for school, stating that they were tired.  When the covers were pulled off to reveal a dreadfully sickly Frisk, Toriel put her foot down and immediately rushed for the first aid kit.

“Mom, I’m not dying…” Frisk mumbled through the thermometer.

“Hush,” the goat monster responded sternly, “You were fine yesterday, and here I find you looking like death.  Sickness like this doesn’t just happen overnight.”

“But--”

“Do not tell me this isn’t a cause for concern.” She snapped, immediately regretting her tone.  “I’m just worried about you, Frisk.”

The tiny human chuckled.  “Maybe I’m just _‘bone tired’_.”

The corners of Toriel’s mouth twitched ever so slightly.  She pleaded, “Please let me help you.  I can take the day off and brew up some hot soup.”

“It’s just a cold! I get them all the time!” Frisk snapped, and then groaned into their pillow.  Toriel was taken aback by the sudden harshness.  They tried again, this time softer, “I’ll be fine.  Colds are easily caught and I don’t want to get anyone else sick, so please, Mom, just let me recover on my own.”

The gentle monster took in her child’s appearance.  They were shockingly pale and shivering, despite the warmth of the house, and their eyes looked sunken as if they hadn’t slept in a long time.  They were clean now after Toriel had changed them into fresh pajamas, but when she had first found her child they had been soaked with sweat—an odd feature seeing as the thermometer read their temperature as being normal for a human.  Perhaps this was a different kind of illness? Toriel ‘checked’ her human.

_FRISK – LV 1_

_HP: 5/20_

_AT: 0/DF: 0_

_***They are suffering.** _

“Mom! Privacy please!” Frisk moaned and pulled the sheet closer to their body as if their adoptive mother could see through their clothes.  ‘Checks’ were very invasive and normally were done by monsters in the medical profession or in the middle of battle.  It was accompanied with a tingling sensation that normally signified that one was being observed.  Toriel hoped her child would forgive her for this trespass.

“I’m sorry, love.  I just had to make sure that you were okay.  Are you sure you don’t want me to take the day off?”

“Please don’t worry about me too much.  I’ll recover in no time!” Frisk gave the goat monster a reassuring smile.  Toriel hummed in thought.

“I suppose I can ask Papyrus to look after you today since Sans has to work.” She checked her watch briefly.  “I’ll try to be home early.  And you…”

She brushed back her child’s still-damp bangs.  “Stay in bed and recover.  Get plenty of rest and drink fluids.”

“Yes, Mom.” Frisk nestled themselves further into the warm blankets as Toriel leaned down to brush her lips against their clammy forehead.  “Have a good day at work.”

Their adoptive mother smiled weakly and adjusted the blankets before walking out of the room.  She scribbled a note for Papyrus and left it on the kitchen table, picked up her purse and walked out of the house.  The day was bright and sunny, though her thoughts were muddled as she walked to work.

Frisk’s HP.

That number worried her greatly.  Frisk looked sickly but nowhere near actual death.  Healing magic could take care of it, but the fact that the child had refused it was cause for alarm.  And the note:  “They are suffering.” What did that mean?

Was Frisk suffering from the illness? If so, why would they turn down something as helpful as healing magic? Or perhaps…were they suffering from something else?

Lately Frisk hadn’t been acting like their usual self.  The blank stares, the monotonous tone, and the lack of cheer was very out of character for her normally happy child.  And the way they had found them two nights ago alone in the kitchen; clutching a sharpened knife and screaming their lungs out.  The morning after they had acted like nothing was out of the ordinary.  There was also that odd smell that continued to plague her thoughts and senses.  She was sure that she had smelled that exact smell somewhere before, but the answers continued to elude her.

It was all very unnerving.  Maybe this was normal for Frisk? After all, Toriel knew almost nothing about Frisk’s life before they had fallen into the mountain.  She had just adopted the child as they were as soon as the barrier had been destroyed, and not once had she questioned their past.  Was Frisk angry because she hadn’t thought to ask them about their life? Would they be angry if she decided to ask them straight out of the blue?

Toriel hummed as she pondered her next move.  Perhaps she could do some research on her child.  It would be invasive, but it would give her a clearer insight into what Frisk’s life was like before the Underground.  When she had applied for a teaching position on the surface, she had learned that the school system was required by law to have a detailed file on every child enrolled in the district.  Financial situation, medical records—being the Principal meant that Toriel would have access to a wealth of information about her students.  Sunny Surface School for Monster Children was recognized as a part of Ebott City’s elementary school district, and there was no doubt that Frisk’s information would be found in the filing cabinets along with every other student’s information.  She could finally learn more about Frisk.

With renewed vigor, Toriel quickened her pace.  She had a lot of reading to do before the bell rang.


	8. Resurgence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I know I had a delicious time, as did my lovable pooch. I told you I'd upload the next chapter as soon as possible and here it is! The following chapter is in the works, so stay tuned!

_It was cold.  Why was it so cold? Where were they?_

_Frisk opened their eyes and looked up to a starlit night sky.  Fresh snowflakes were falling, adding a layer to the already pristine blanket of snow.  The sight was beautiful.  The small child opened their mouth and giggled at the cold moisture that spread across their tongue.  They tasted clean, unsoiled, and fresh._

_They crawled out of the log they had been resting in and stretched, shivering when the chilly air hit their exposed midriff.  It was cold, too cold to continue resting out here.  Should they go back home?_

_They scoffed at that thought.  Home was a warm, comforting place with people who loved and cared for you, who kissed your injuries and read bedtime stories.  Where was home for someone like them?_

_It certainly wasn’t **there**._

_Frisk picked a direction and walked, not caring where they ended up next.  They huddled in on themselves, hoping to preserve what little warmth they had.  They refused to go back to **that place** , that terrible place that could be called anything but “home.”_

_They walked for what felt like hours, and the forest only seemed to grow thicker.  They had to find some shelter soon, hopefully another log, before they passed out from the cold.  Strangely enough, Frisk didn’t care if they died out here.  They didn’t care that they were too young to die, just that they were away from **them**.  If they did die here buried under the snow, then it was okay.  Anywhere was better than **there**._

_Barely conscious, Frisk didn’t register the tree root in time and crashed face first into the snowy bank.  They yelped as they felt something warm drip from their nose and touched their injured face.  It didn’t feel broken, but it hurt very much._

_They froze when they heard laughter and looked behind them.  A lone woman stood on the path behind them._

_“Are you going to cry now?” The woman took a step towards the child.  “Better get used to it.”_

_“You’re not supposed to be here.” Frisk managed to squeak out, frozen in fear.  The woman’s face contorted into something resembling rage._

_“I can be wherever I damn well please.  And do you know what? He doesn’t even care what happens to me anymore.” The woman lamented, “He used to look at me with love in his eyes.  He used to treat me like I was his one and only, and I was!  He changed after you came into our lives.  And it’s **your** fault, you little shit.”_

_She lunged for Frisk and pinned the child beneath her, grabbing a fistful of their hair.  “It’s your fault he’s gone after whores! It’s your fault he’s gone after you! It’s your fault that I’m all alone! **It’s all your fault!** ”_

_Tears welled up in Frisk’s eyes as their scalp burned, but they had no time to speak up as the first slap caught them off guard.  Another followed, and then another.  A sting of pain had them crying out, the woman’s jeweled wedding ring having left a fresh cut on their face.  It was enough to drive Frisk to knee the woman in the spot between her legs.  The woman above them keeled over, shrieking in pain and anger, and the child took the opportunity to slither away and stand._

_“Get back here you little fu—!” She didn’t have time to finish her statement as Frisk aimed a kick to her face, smiling a bit as their foot connected._

_“Eat shit, wicked witch!” Frisk said with a smug smile, sidestepping the blind woman as she tried to lunge for them again._

_They turned and ran as fast as they could through the forest, darting in between the trees in the hopes of losing the woman.  They could no longer hear the cries of the banshee but did not stop running, and the one time they did steal a glance over their shoulder they neglected to notice another large tree root protruding from the earth.  They fell once more, harder than the first, and cried at the pain in their throbbing ankle.  Their foot was still caught in the root and any further movement sent hot pain up their leg.  Was it broken?_

_When they sat up, Frisk saw that it wasn’t a root that was holding their foot, but a hand.  A hand that was connected to an arm, which was connected to a torso, which was connected to a **very** familiar masculine face that they wished they could erase from their memory forever._

_“Where are you going so fast, sweetheart?” The man asked, not letting go of their injured foot.  “Did you get a boo-boo?”_

_“Get the fuck away from me!” Frisk screamed and tried to kick at him with their uninjured leg.  The man didn’t seem impressed as he caught the foot._

_“What are you going to do now, sweetheart? Come on, let me make you feel better…” He purred in a way that make Frisk’s hairs stand on end._

_“No! Get away from me!” The child tried to pull their leg out of the man’s grasp to no avail.  The man laughed sadistically and pulled them closer.  Frisk beat his chest with their tiny fists, which did nothing as the man pinned their arms down with his chest._

_“Aw sweetheart, you’re hurting my feelings.  I just want to make you feel good.” They heard a jingling of a belt buckle being undone and the feeling of a hand sliding up their leg to the waistband of their own shorts._

_“GET AWAY FROM ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” They wriggled as hard as they could, but the weight of the man above was too much._

_“Go ahead and scream.  No one can hear you out here, and I like hearing your voice.  Now, give me a kiss.”_

* * *

Frisk heard screaming.  They shot up in bed and took a moment to realize that the screams were their own making.  They balled up under the covers and cried.  Shortly after there was a _blip_ and Sans was there with a panicked look on his skeletal face.

“Frisk?! What’s wrong?!”

The bedroom door slammed open and Papyrus dove into the room.  He had been downstairs preparing hot soup for the child and was still wielding kitchen utensils.  “WHAT’S GOING ON?! SANS, WHY IS FRISK CRYING?!”

“I don’t know, bro! I heard them screaming and just came up here!”

“IS THIS BECAUSE OF THE SICKNESS?”

“I don’t know!” Sans looked lost.  “Let me check their temperature and then we’ll think about calling Alphys!”

The small skeleton pulled back the blankets to see the distressing sight of Frisk curled in on themselves, crying and shaking like there was no tomorrow.  He reached to check their temperature but had his hand swatted away.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Frisk screamed and rolled off the bed, and backed up into a corner of their bedroom.  Sans was stricken with shock.

“Kid, I’m just trying to help you!” He took a step towards the child only to dodge a flying book coming their way.  “Frisk! Stop it!”

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!” The tiny human had never looked so fierce and terrified at the same time.  They threw another book and Sans dodged again.

“SANS, WHY IS THE HUMAN THROWING THINGS AT YOU?!” Papyrus shrieked in terror, holding the lid of the pot up as a shield.

“Hell if I know, Paps!” Sans responded as he dodged a glass object and heard it shatter against the opposing wall.  “Call Alphys! Let her know we’re coming over!”

“NOW?”

“No, Paps, we’re coming over tomorrow! Hell yes call her _now_!” The small skeleton said almost angrily as he summoned a wall of blue bones around the struggling human to form an impassable cage.

Papyrus’ jaw dropped in shock at the sight and he momentarily forgot to call his brother out on his rudeness.  “SANS! YOU’RE GOING TO HURT THEM! THINK BEFORE YOU ATTACK!”

His older brother stood and leveled a look at his taller sibling, left eye sparking blue and yellow with magic.  “I’m not hurting them, I’m just containing them.  Something set this kid off and I’m not risking you in case they decide to get even more violent.  Now call Alphys!”

Papyrus looked ready to argue, but the look his brother gave him had him nodding, somewhat in fear but mostly in concern.  If Sans was giving him that look, it meant that this was something to be taken seriously.  Not that he wasn’t already concerned for the life and safety of this human he was proud to call family, but the way they were acting was very unnerving.  He went downstairs to retrieve his phone.

Sans stood next to the blue magic prison, hands in his pockets, and grimaced at the sobbing sounds coming from inside.  This was new and something he was entirely unprepared for.  Hopefully Alphys would have some answers when they came over.

“What’s going on with you, kid?” He asked more to himself.


	9. Analysis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Insert many apologies about being late due to the holidays and work*  
> *Additional insert: Bowing profusely*  
> *Final insert: Sipping orange juice just because*

Alphys wasn’t sure what to think of the situation.  She had been preparing a cup of instant noodles to enjoy while watching a new anime with the love of her life.  Undyne had been dying to watch something called “Kill la Kill” and Alphys decided to humor her, though it wasn’t hard to cave in to demand when anime and her girlfriend were involved at once.  They had just made themselves cozy on the couch and were prepared to hit the play button when Alphys’ phone had gone off.  She had not been expecting to receive call from Papyrus saying that he and Sans were coming over due to an urgent matter.  She was used to these sudden visits from her friends, as she was the only monster doctor around—but she wasn’t expecting the skeleton brothers to show up wielding a crate made entirely out of blue bones with what sounded like a feral creature inside.

She was speechless to learn from Sans that Frisk was the one making the noises.

“The kid wouldn’t stop fighting us, so I just, you know, packed them up and brought them to you.” The small skeleton finished explaining and slumped in his chair.  Alphys had never seen him look so drained.

She looked to Papyrus, who looked equal parts concerned and tired.  “Did you want to sit down, Papyrus?”

“I am fine.” The younger skeleton brother said quietly, still glancing at the magical crate.  Frisk had not made any more noises since their arrival, which was both a relief and worrisome.  Undyne slapped him on the back.

“C’mon, Paps!  You know Alphys can fix this, right? She’s the smartest gal I know, and I only date the best!” The fish monster said with a wink in her girlfriend’s direction.  The lizard’s face lit up brighter than a cherry tomato.

“U-Undyne…”

“She’s the cutest too!”

“Undyne!”

“Isn’t she just perf--!”

_Slam!_

Everyone jumped at the echo.  They turned and saw Sans standing with his fist against the nearby wall.  The look in his eyes was anything but playful.

“We don’t have time for this happy campy bullshit!” He growled, “We need to find out what the fuck is wrong with Frisk right now!”

“LANGUAGE!” Papyrus jumped in.  “SANS, WE ALL WANT TO KNOW WHAT IS WRONG WITH FRISK, BUT ACTING LIKE THIS ISN’T HELPING ANYONE!”

Sans looked ready to argue, but instead stuffed his hand into a pocket and turned away.  The blue crate levitated behind him as he walked past the kitchen and into a nearby door marked “Lab”.  The other monsters were stunned by small skeleton’s outburst, Papyrus the most since he had rarely ever seen his brother explode like that.

“Pft, forget him then.” Undyne huffed.  “Alphys, you should probably go.  We’ll stay out here while you two nerds figure out what’s wrong with the squirt.”

“B-but, what about you two?”

“Papyrus and I can find our own fun.  Maybe I’ll ask the master chef how to make some good grub.  Those instant noodles of yours _suck_.” The fish monster stuck her tongue out at the paper cup in her girlfriend’s hands.

“B-but the kitchen…” Alphys almost whined.

“We’re not going to set the house on fire.  Papyrus is the chef and I’ll clean up.  You know I’m pretty good at _that_.” Undyne winked again.  “Besides, the kid might want something to eat after you’ve fixed them up.”

“THAT MIGHT BE TRUE.” The tall skeleton mused with more energy in his voice.  Papyrus seemed to have pepped up a bit at the conversation.  “DO YOU HAVE ANY RECIPES I CAN LOOK AT?”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Undyne said gleefully as she looped her arm around Papyrus’ neck and led him to the kitchen.  “How about we make some chicken noodle soup? That’s great for getting over a cold.”

“SOUP DOES SOUND…good…” Papyrus trailed off.  His eyes went wide as if he suddenly remembered something.  “NYEEEEEEEEEEH! I FORGOT TO TURN THE STOVE OFF! THE HOUSE IS GOING TO BURN DOWN!”

He sprinted out of the room and through the front door.  Undyne blinked before shrugging and taking off after him.  Alphys shook her head with a fond smile.  Some things never changed.  She looked at the door marked “Lab” and inhaled deeply before stepping through.

Sans was waiting for her when she descended the last set of stairs, already turning on the machinery that lined the perimeter of the enormous basement.  “Are you finally ready to get to work?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Sans.” The lizard stuttered, but made sure to get her point across.  “You h-had no right to b-behave like that in front of everyone.”

Sans didn’t respond, only kept his attention focused on the dials, buttons and screens.  He was intentionally trying not to look at the other monster.

“Look, I know you’re not a bad guy, and for as long as I’ve known you, you never have been.  You always try to do what’s best for everyone because you care.  You just…sometimes fly off the deep end when you can’t solve a problem.  You lash out at everyone trying to help you because you’re so damn stubborn.” Alphys continued, “But you don’t stop trying.  You apologize and keep on going.  You do it because you _care_ , Sans.  You care about Papyrus and all of the monsters in the Underground.  You care about Frisk.”

“Yeah, I do.  They’ve done so much for us already; I can’t afford not to care.” Sans said quietly.  “I’m sorry for how I acted back there.”

“Apology accepted, though you still have to apologize to Undyne.  She won’t let you live it down.”

Sans rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, I got it.  Now help me out here.  I don’t know if the kid is still conscious but you should prep some tranquilizers just in case.”

“Are they really that savage?” Alphys asked as she did so.  She had heard stories of adult humans dusting monsters with ease, but it was hard to imagine a child putting up much of a fight against a frighteningly strong monster such as Sans.

“They would have clawed my eyes out if I let them.  Then I wouldn’t be able to work _‘on-site’_.” Sans said as he levitated the magical crate onto a gurney.  Alphys shook her head.

“I guess you’re feeling better.”

“I’ll feel better when this is all over.” The small skeleton said as he checked the restraints attached to the gurney.  Alphys walked over with a syringe filled with pink fluid.  “Ready?”

The lizard nodded and the bones dissipated.  They expected fighting and clawing, but none came.

Frisk lay on the gurney motionless.  They could have been confused for being dead had their chest not moved with their breathing.  Sans held his breath as Alphys leaned in to check their pulse and released it when she gave a thumbs up.  She injected the tranquilizer with little difficulty and Frisk’s features seemed to relax a bit.  The kid could rest in peace for now.

Alphys looked at Frisk from head to toe, taking in their frail appearance.  The darkness under their eyes meant that they hadn’t been sleeping well, and the clammy skin definitely indicated illness.  It may have been her perception of the situation, but Frisk seemed almost…tiny.  Much smaller than the human child she had first encountered in her lab back in the Underground.  It was as if that entire mysterious, almost magical, aura that had made them what they were was suddenly gone, and here they were just a regular, feeble child.

“It’s hard to imagine that this little human is the one who had the strength to free us all.  I never realized just how small they really are, and so young.” The lizard monster said softly.

“This kid, this tiny human being, has done some remarkable things, Alphys.  I wish you could have seen them back in the Underground.  The obstacles they had to overcome on their journey to the surface, the battles they had to fight…”

“I’m sure it was a spectacle.” The lizard monster said.  Sans looked at her and gave one of his rare, genuine smiles.

“You have no idea.”

* * *

Papyrus and Undyne were resting on the couch, with the former stealing occasional glances at the kitchen.  They had made it back to the skeleton brothers’ and Toriel’s house in record time, just as the soup that Papyrus had been preparing before exploded in a blaze of glory.  The kitchen and duo were covered in hot broth, and after cooling down they had set to work on cleaning up the mess and preparing a new batch of soup.

“Ahhh, feels good to stretch my back.” Undyne sighed, “My legs too.  I haven’t run like that in ages.”

“I THOUGHT YOUR JOB ALLOWED YOU TO RUN?” Papyrus questioned as he picked up his abandoned knitting and set to work.

“I can run on my own time, but those human clients need so much supervision.  As a personal trainer, I have to get on their case every time I catch them slacking off in the gym.  When they finally do leave its closing time, and I lose my chance to work out, which sucks so much.  Besides, the treadmills can’t keep up with me.” Undyne said with some distaste.

“YOU SHOULD ASK ALPHYS TO MAKE YOU A SUPER TREADMILL, ONE THAT CAN WITHSTAND YOUR AWESOME SPEED.” The tall skeleton hummed as he knitted, very close to the end of the scarf.

“Maybe for Gyftmas.  She’s been pretty busy with work lately and we haven’t had the chance to really spend time together.  Today was supposed to be her day off and we were going to watch some awesome new anime, but then you guys came over with an emergency.” The fish monster looked a bit miffed as she said it.

Papyrus felt guilty.  “I’M SORRY WE RUINED YOUR DATE NIGHT, UNDYNE!”

“Don’t worry about it. “ The other monster shrugged.  “We’ll have plenty of other date nights, and besides I’m also worried about the squirt.”

She leaned back into the couch with a pensive look on her face.  “It’s hard to imagine a big softie like them going feral.  Hell, it’s hard to imagine any of us going feral.  We don’t have any LOVE.”

“It is…confusing.” Papyrus agreed softly, halting in his task.  “Frisk has never had any outbursts like this before.  They have always been such a happy child.  To see them as they were was unsettling.”

“I didn’t think the squirt had it in them.  Maybe they have what it takes to be a warrior after all.” The fish monster hummed.

“No, Undyne, it was something you had to see for yourself.  Frisk didn’t have the battle rush when they attacked Sans.  They were angry about something, but there was also…fear.  I think.” The tall skeleton scratched the top of his head as he tried to piece together what it was that riled Frisk up, but gave up.

Ever since he was a baby bones he had been good at puzzles, and solving problems was sort of like solving a puzzle.  This was one puzzle that seemed impossible to solve.  He didn’t have all of the pieces yet, and until they were in his grasp he was at a loss.  It was frustrating.

“Hey, you okay, Paps?” Undyne’s voice brought him out of his reverie.

“I am fine, Undyne.  Just thinking.”

“Nerd.” The fish monster said affectionately and lightly punched his shoulder.  “So, is there anything else we can do around here?”

Papyrus scratched his cheek in thought.  “The soup is simmering and won’t be done for a while.  I suppose we can clean up the mess in Frisk’s room.”

“Then let’s go!” The fish warrior promptly leapt to her feet and stretched.  “We’ll clean that room so good it’ll sparkle like freaking Mettaton’s polished ass!”

“I don’t want to leave the soup unchecked…again.”

“Oh c’mon, Paps! That soup is going to be fine! If you had let _me_ do the cooking it would be _done_ by now!” Undyne rolled her eyes.  “Or are you saying that you’re not up to the _challenge_?”

At that, Papyrus set his knitting aside and stood as well.  He could never say no to a challenge.  “THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS UP FOR A CHALLENGE!”

Undyne’s lips curled into a sharp grin.  “RACE YOU TO THE TOP!” She jeered and took off at full speed.  Papyrus took off after her, scarf trailing behind.


	10. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I should apologize for the long delay. After the holidays passed in all their colorful, festive glory I was ready to upload the next chapter, but then I had some issues with logging into the site. I contacted support and they helped me out, so then I was about to upload the chapter...
> 
> BUT THEN, I started feeling sick and have had a massive pain in my abdomen and lower back--to the point of nausea and even vomiting-- for more than a week now and I am planning to go to urgent care tomorrow morning. I haven't had a chance to go sooner due to my insurance application still pending and not taking effect until next month. So in the meantime I've tried to keep this illness of mine at bay with hot tea with lemon and honey nonstop, and sipping soup when I feel that my stomach is willing to at least accept what I put in my mouth. It's been working to a minimal degree, but there's no denying that I need professional help.
> 
> I refuse to keep putting this upload off. So here's the next chapter, guys. Due to me going on medical hiatus, I don't know when the next one will be uploaded but I will continue writing once I've recovered. I hope you're still interested when that happens.

An hour had passed since the dynamic duo had set to work on cleaning Frisk’s room.  Papyrus had made frequent trips to and from the kitchen to check on the soup, not wanting to clean up another explosive aftermath.  He had been seasoned enough, thank you very much.  Now the flame was off and the chicken broth was steaming on the stove top, ready for consumption.  Undyne would probably want a taste, after they had finished cleaning the room of course.

There was a bigger mess than expected.  Piles of clothes, clean and dirty, littered the room and there was an awful odor about that the tall skeleton could have sworn was familiar, but nonetheless disgusting.  The former Captain of the Royal Guard had been plucking books off the floor and sliding them into the neighboring bookcase.  Papyrus returned with a laundry basket and began sorting through the clothes, picking each article up and sniffing it before arranging it accordingly.

“The kid really made a mess in here, huh? Uh oh, there’s some broken glass over here.  Don’t step over here until I’ve cleaned it up!” Undyne took off downstairs to fetch a broom and was back within minutes.

Papyrus hoisted his nearly full basket and rushed downstairs, full of vigor and excitement.  Cleaning helped to clear his mind of any problems, and with Undyne here he was sure her boundless energy was contagious.  He popped the filthy clothes into the washing machine, careful to sort the colors from the whites, and poured some detergent before running the device.  How nice it would be for Frisk to come home to a clean room and fresh cold-killing soup.  He was sure Alphys would have no trouble finding out what was wrong with their lovable human in no time.

“Hey Papyrus, do you have any glue?!” The tall skeleton heard Undyne’s voice inquire from upstairs.

“I DO, BUT WHAT DO YOU NEED IT FOR?” He called back.

“Frisk broke their glass figurine and I wanna fix it!  I’ll fix it so good it’ll look better than before! OUCH!”

“UNDYNE?! ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“I cut myself on the glass! Damn, that smarts!”

“DO YOU NEED A BANDAGE?”

“Do I look like a tadpole to you?! I’ve shrugged off worse than this!”

Papyrus rolled his eye sockets, but not without a small smile, and retrieved the glue from a storage cabinet in the living room.  He took the stairs three at a time and came into the room to find Undyne sweeping the glass into a dust pan.

“MAYBE I SHOULD FIX IT?” The tall skeleton offered.  The fish monster shrugged her shoulders.

“Why the hell not? You’re good at puzzles and there are so many tiny pieces.”

“THE MORE PIECES THERE ARE, THE BETTER THE CHALLENGE FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” Papyrus said with a flutter of his scarf.  Taking a seat at Frisk’s desk, he motioned for his friend to hand over the glass shards.  She did so, carefully discarding the glass contents of the dustpan into a small pile on the desk.   

Papyrus set to work on assembling the glass angel, diligent in his task as he set the pieces in place.  The angel wouldn’t look nearly as good as it had when whole, but Frisk loved this ornament dearly.  It had been the monsters’ gift to their savior the day they had been freed from the Underground, and since that day the tiny human had treated the glass figurine with utmost care.  Now here it was in pieces.  The tall skeleton monster felt his soul twinge in sorrow.

Half an hour into his work, Papyrus began to notice something odd.  No matter which way he turned it, the piece in his hand, as well as a few others, didn’t seem to fit.  They weren’t as thick as some of the other glass shards and had strips of paper stuck to the flat surface—as if they belonged to something else.

“Having some trouble there, O’ Master of Puzzles?” Undyne asked cheekily as she leaned over his bony shoulder.

“Undyne, where did you find these pieces?” Papyrus asked.

“Over by the bed.  That’s where I found the fallen angel.  Why?”

“These pieces don’t fit with the rest of the angel.  I wonder…”

He reached for the remainder of the glass shards and sorted them into two piles, then set to work on assembling the odd pieces.  Undyne had left the room shortly after, perhaps to monopolize the couch once again, but Papyrus continued to amass his puzzle.  A few pieces formed the base of the object, then the walls, and it resembled something akin to a drinking glass.

But Frisk’s glass of water was still on the night stand.

Papyrus continued working on the mysterious object with fervor.  He had to know what this was.  More pieces glued together and a chill made its way up his spine at the sight of the remaining section—a long, narrow neck.  He fastened it down, and the pieces of the mental puzzle he had been working on were starting to come together as he held the completed reassembly of one of Sans’ whiskey bottles.

The sour aroma that had plagued his senses the moment he stepped into his human’s room.  Frisk’s sickly behavior when he had checked up on them earlier that morning.  This glass bottle was damning evidence of everything that Papyrus discovered.  But it brought up numerous more questions.

Why was it here? Did Sans go on yet another drinking binge despite his promises and hid the bottle in the last place they would think to check? Had Frisk really drunk alcohol?

So many questions and so few answers; and Papyrus wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the truth.  Not now when he felt so ill from this revelation.  But he had to know if his speculation was true.  He would probably feel worse than he did now knowing the truth—but he had to know.  But first, he had to confirm something.

Papyrus reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone, and dialed the only number that made sense to him.

* * *

The room was deathly silent save for the beeping of the monitors.  Alphys went to each screen and scribbled down notes on her clipboard.

“All vitals seem normal.  Aside from the high fever, Frisk seems to be in decent physical health.” The lizard murmured mostly to herself.  She had yet to run a soul scan, but that could be done later when Frisk was conscious.  It was a very invasive procedure and the good doctor preferred to have the consent of her patients.  “I’m more an expert on monsters, but with this research I think I could start working with human biology as well.  Do you think King Asgore would approve if I applied to work at the hospital?”

Silence.  Alphys turned from her work to see Sans circling the rim of his water glass with a bony finger.  He stared absently into the water, eye sockets dark, and lost in his own train of thought.

The lizard monster padded over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  The small skeleton jumped and dropped the tumbler.  Alphys winced at the sound of shattering glass.

“S-sorry, Alph…”

The tone almost made her cringe.  Sans was hardly ever meek around her.  The only times she could remember him being like this was under the critical eye of the previous Royal Scientist.  She couldn’t remember the person’s face, but the feeling of their gaze on her and how she practically burrowed into her lab coat upon receiving their criticism was something that could never be forgotten; and evidently she was not the only one.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She asked softly, and the small skeleton looked ready to bolt.  “Sans?”

“I…I did something bad, Alphys.”

The bluntness of the statement almost took her by surprise.  What could he be referring to? His drinking? Everybody knew that Sans had a weakness for hard liquor and he had prominently displayed his favorite vice on more than one occasion.  Their close-knit family had no illusions when it came to Sans being left alone with an unopened bottle of whiskey.  Had he gone back on his promise to cut down?

“What did you do?” Her tone was gentle still, not wanting to scare him off.  She had never seen the Royal Judge look so small and scared.

“I…I drank…” So it was his drinking.  She would probably have to have a very unwelcome chat with Toriel sometime in the future.  Alphys let him continue.

“I drank and it led to something bad.  Stars, I’m so stupid…I promised Papyrus that I would cut back on the sauce.” Sans held his skull in his hands and began to rock back and forth.  “One drink and I become so, so stupid.”

“Sans, what exactly happened? Did you hurt Papyrus?” The lizard monster questioned further.

Sans shook his head fiercely.  “Not Papyrus.  Never Papyrus.”

“But you did hurt someone?” A nod so quick it could have been mistaken for a twitch.  “Who did you hurt?”

The small skeleton, the Royal Judge, stiffened.  Alphys felt a very familiar cold spread over her as he finally raised his head, eye sockets dark.  She had seen this before; she could stand her ground.

“I hurt _Frisk_.”

She dropped her clipboard.

* * *

_The bell attached to the door jingled, and Frisk stepped meekly into the convenience store._

_“Hey, you’re the Goodman kid, right?” The sales associate looked up from his magazine.  Frisk was surprised that he even remembered them.  They nodded and the associate barked a laugh.  “Haven’t seen you come around in a while.  Where’ve you been, sweetheart?”_

_The tiny human shook their head.  The older man scoffed.  “Fine don’t tell me.  Don’t matter all that much.  Your old man send you?”_

_Frisk nodded._

_“Lemme guess:  He ran out already?” Another nod._

_“Holy fuck! The man seriously needs to learn how to pace himself! The old fucker drinks like a fish!” More laughter.  This was going on longer than it should, and Frisk was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable._

_The associate must have noticed their discomfort and sobered up.  “Yeah, I know.  Don’t worry, I got what your old man needs right here.  You know the drill, kiddo.”_

_Frisk fished the money out of their pocket while the associate dug through a cardboard box.  The sound of bottles clinking together brought back memories for them, and the sooner they got through this the sooner they could leave before someone else recognized them.  If there really was a God, they must have heard them; the associate held a paper bag in front of their face and the child took it, placing carefully counted bills in the other’s hand.  A wave of nausea passed over them as they touched hands, and it took everything they had not to let the other know._

_“Pleasure doing business with you, sweetheart.  I missed seeing you around.  Hope to see more of you.” The sales associate winked and Frisk nodded by default, nausea growing by the second.  As they turned, the older man said, “Tell your old man I’ll be coming around real soon.”_

_Frisk pocketed the bag and left the liquor store without another glance, running away before tears threatened to spill._

_(“I’ll be seeing you again **real soon** , sweetheart.”)_

* * *

The rapid beeping of the heart rate monitor was enough to alarm Alphys and Sans.  Forgotten was the declaration that was just uttered.  All that mattered right now was Frisk and their condition just reached critical.

“I need ten ccs of diazepam, stat!” She barked at the skeleton, falling into her role of doctor seamlessly.  The other monster spared no time and rushed over to the medicine cabinet, fumbling for a clean syringe.  Alphys pressed two fingers against Frisk’s wrist and checked her watch.

_Eighty-nine…ninety…ninety-one…_

Heart rate was climbing rapidly and not showing any signs of stopping.

_Ninety-seven…ninety-eight…ninety-nine…_

This was too high for someone as young as Frisk! Where was Sans with that tranquilizer?!

_One hundred and two…one hundred and three…one hundred and four…_

“SANS! NOW!” The lizard monster shouted in urgency.  In a _blip_ Sans was at her side, syringe at the ready.  Alphys tapped Frisk’s upper arm, searching for the vein, and the skeleton plunged the needle in and injected the tranquilizer.

The speedy beep of the monitor began to slow to a leisurely rhythm, and Alphys felt the tiny human’s pulse drop to an acceptable level within minutes.  She wiped her brow and breathed a sigh of relief, then stole a glance at Sans.  The skeleton monster looked just as relieved but still a touch anxious, the syringe still tight in his grasp.

Alphys gave Frisk one more check up, determining them to be within acceptable levels of health and promptly strode over to Sans, snatching up her clipboard along the way.  She guided him with little difficulty back over to his chair.

“Sit down and tell me exactly what happened.  Start from the beginning.”

Sans inhaled deeply, not intent on fighting his longtime friend.  It was time to come clean about everything he had kept hidden for all these years.

“Alphys, do you remember our research? Back in the Underground?”

The lizard monster was taken aback.  She didn’t see what this had to do with the confession the skeleton had so reluctantly admitted just moments ago.  “I don’t understand.  Are you talking about the Determination experiments? What do those have to do with what’s happening now?”

Sans turned his gaze to the limp figure of Frisk.  “I found the anomaly.”

For the second time that day, Alphys’ jaw and clipboard dropped.

* * *

The bell rang and Toriel breathed a sigh of relief.  She had been looking forward to this lunch break all day.  Instead of eating her packed lunch, however, she glanced over the files piled to the right corner of her desk.  Earlier that day she had strolled into the office and asked her secretary to bring her Frisk’s complete file, to which the young human woman happily and quickly did, and the goat monster had been keen on reading up on her young human at the appropriate moment.  Now she could finally take a well-deserved rest to discover more about Frisk.

The goat monster pulled the stack forward and opened up the folder, and began to read.

_**Student Name:**   Frisk Goodman_

_**Age:**   7_

The picture at the top right of the first page displayed the Frisk she knew and loved, with their long hair draped around their shoulders and eyes open, displaying their bright brown eyes.  They were clad in one of their pink-and-blue striped shirts.

_**Parent/Guardian:**   Toriel Dreemurr_

_***Previous Guardians:**    ~~~~_(There was a large black spot that completed covered the names.)

That was odd.  Why would the information about Frisk’s previous parents be redacted? Was there something that the district was trying to hide? Toriel rubbed her fluffy head in frustration and made a mental note to go to the district office to ask about this.  Before she could read further, her phone rang.

She retrieved it from her purse and checked the caller ID, surprised to see Papyrus’ name and photo.  “Hello, this is Toriel.”

A tiny feeling in the back of her head told her that something was wrong when she heard Papyrus’ tone through the earpiece—soft, shaky, nervous.  The proud skeleton warrior was never like this…unless something was truly in the wrong.  “Papyrus, you sound terrible.  What is bothering you?”

Toriel listened to the skeleton’s rapid speaking and had to remind him to slow down.  He did so and repeated himself.  She shot up from her seat, eyes wide and fur on edge.

“You found WHAT?!”


End file.
